When In Doubt
by WillowDryad
Summary: He was just supposed to escort Daisy to Cheyenne and back on the stage, but for Jess Harper, nothing is ever simple. This story is now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Jess Harper, Daisy Cooper, and all the characters and situations in _Laramie_ belong to their copyright holders and not to me. **  
****I feel, at least in respect to Jess Harper, the situation is patently inequitable.****

WHEN IN DOUBT

Chapter One

Jess Harper never much liked riding the stage. Not inside, that is. He liked driving one. Heck, he even liked riding shotgun when he was needed. But inside? It didn't do a thing for him but give him a pain right where he sat down. Still, he hadn't been about to let Daisy go off to Cheyenne all by herself. Slim had put his foot down hard about it anyway, saying the trip was too rough and she oughtn't to go at all, but Daisy was about as set on going as he was on her not and said that, somehow, she'd managed to come all the way from the east without his approval and she thought she might just be able to make it to Cheyenne now, given a spot a good luck and provided it didn't rain.

Jess, at the time of the discussion, had been of a mind that there were several things that needed doing in the barn, but, being well aware that Miss Daisy's displeasure was most likely to be expressed in a very painful culinary way that affected even the innocent bystander, especially those overfond of apple pie, had instead gallantly offered to escort the lady to and from Cheyenne and by way of stagecoach no less. Evidently, Daisy's Cousin Louisa and her son and his family were going up to Saskatoon to start a general store and Cheyenne was as close to Laramie as they'd be before turning north. Daisy hadn't wanted to miss seeing Cousin Louisa, and Jess just about couldn't tell Daisy no on his best day. So, even though Slim continued to scowl and more than once threatened Jess with a hiding if he let anything happen to Miss Daisy, off they went.

They spent a pleasant afternoon visiting with Cousin Louisa and her family, spent the night at Cheyenne's finest hotel, where they guaranteed they changed the sheets every week without fail, and then prepared to leave the next morning. Daisy's friend, Mrs. Claremont, was having a granddaughter get married that coming Saturday, and Daisy was all-fired eager to get back in time for it.

"I promised I'd make the wedding cake, dear," she'd said, laying her small hand appealingly on Jess's arm, "and I really couldn't disappoint Hortense."

"No, ma'am," Jess had told her, "we sure wouldn't want that. We'll be back tomorrow night. That'll still give you three days to do whatever it is needs doing for that wedding."

"Wonderful. Thank you, dear."

Of course, nothing could actually be that simple. Seems there was a bridge out, and it wouldn't be fixed for the next three or four days at the best. The stage wouldn't be leaving until then. That's why, after a certain amount of negotiation and wheedling and a few tears, thankfully none on Jess's part, and a wire home saying they'd be a little late, they were driving a rented buckboard through the back country on their way back to Laramie.

Daisy sat smiling next to Jess with her parasol shading them both from the sun. "Won't this be nice? So much better than being shut up in that jouncy old stage with a bunch of strangers."

"Yeah," he said, "but that jouncy old stage had a driver and a shotgun rider and was going on the main road and stopping tonight at a nice hotel."

"Why, Jess, I never thought I'd hear you complain about spending one night on the trail. It couldn't be that bad."

"Not for me, Miss Daisy, but you oughtn't to be sleeping out like this. It won't be comfortable for you."

"We talked about this a good long while already, dear. It won't hurt me in the least to sleep one night in the wagon bed, especially with that nice feather mattress you bought. Why, I'll be so spoilt by the time we get home, Slim won't know what to do with me."

"He's the one who'll give me a good tannin' if I don't bring you back in the same shape you left in. I can't be too careful."

"Well, don't you worry, honey. I know this isn't the main road, but it's not too bad. The weather is lovely, and it's really quite relaxing to ride along like this without a lot of fuss." She put her arm through his. "Thank you, dear, for indulging an old woman."

He turned his face away a little, not wanting to let her see the pure pleasure in his smile. She didn't need to know just how happy it made him to do what he could to make her happy. He hadn't had anything like a ma since he was fifteen, and it sure felt nice to have one now.

OOOOO

"How about here, Daisy?"

He turned the wagon a little ways off the road and pulled up.

She squinted into the low sun. "But isn't it a bit early to be stopping for the night?"

"Not really. It'll be dark in less than an hour, and we might not find as nice a place further on. What do you say? It's got a nice shady grove of trees and a creek running just beyond, good grass for the horses, and I swear two of the fattest jackrabbits I ever seen was just peeking out of those bushes there. They'd be real tasty for supper."

"Two? Do we need both of them?"

"Well, I'll tell you, Daisy, I'm plannin' on puttin' away about one-and-a-half of 'em. What you do with the rest is your business."

She laughed and shook her head. "I don't know why I even asked. All right, let's stop here, but we're getting a nice early start in the morning."

"Yes, ma'am!"

He hopped down from the wagon and then swung her down.

She kept her hands on his shoulders even after her feet were on the ground. "And no grumbling when I wake you at dawn."

He winced. "Yes, ma'am."

She patted him and let him go. "Now, if you'll get some water and get a fire started, I'll make the coffee and set us out some bread and butter and open up a can of beans to go with those jackrabbits."

He grinned, hoping he could find some kind of game as fast as he'd said he could. By the time he had the horses unharnessed and turned out and got a fire going, she was already bustling around, laying out the food and the dishes and generally arranging the camp so it would be comfortable for them both. As it happened, he did bag a pair of rabbits, and it was just getting dark when he got back to camp with them.

"Oh, Jess," Daisy said. "They look so nice and plump. They ought to be delicious."

"They'll do," he said, ducking his head a little. "I'll get 'em skinned out and ready to cook."

He'd barely started when he heard a horse coming close. He dropped the rabbits and his knife and drew his gun.

"Come over here, Daisy," he said low as he grabbed the rifle, and then he drew her over into the shadow of the trees, away from the fire.

The horse came right into camp. Its rider was sagging in the saddle, and there was blood all down the front of his shirt on one side.

Jess put himself between him and Daisy. "What do you want, mister?"

The rider shook his head a little and then narrowed his eyes in their direction. "Where are you?"

"First you tell me who you are and what you want."

"I mean you no harm." The man held up both hands and then clutched at the pommel of his saddle to keep himself from falling. "My name's John Hudson. I'm a deputy marshal in Cheyenne."

"If you come outta Cheyenne, mister, you're facing the wrong way."

"No, headed back there. Listen, I'll throw away my gun if you want. Just let me get down."

Jess handed Daisy the rifle. "You stay right here, understand?"

She nodded and aimed the rifle at the stranger.

Jess walked over to the man, still covering him with his pistol. "All right, give me your gun."

The man clung to his saddle. "You'd— you'd better just get it. I don't think I can."

Jess obliged him and stuck the revolver in his belt. "All right, deputy, I'm gonna help you down, but just so's you understand, there's a rifle trained on you from right over in those trees. Don't try anything you're gonna regret."

"I swear I mean you no harm. I work for Marshall Evers. He sent me out."

He was breathing harder now. Jess figured he'd better let him down before he flat out fell.

"I know Evers," Jess said as he helped the man sit down with his back against a tree. "Heard there was a bank robbery in Cheyenne."

The deputy shook his head. "Mine payroll."

"Yeah," Jess said with half a smile. "That's what I heard, too."

The deputy laughed some. "Never hurts to have a little caution, I always say."

"Yeah."

Jess peeled back his bloodied shirt with the badge still pinned to it and found he was hit high up in the shoulder.

"I don't think it's too bad," Hudson said. "The bullet went through. I just have to get the bleeding stopped."

"Daisy?" Jess called. "I think the deputy could use your help."

Daisy came into the light, still holding the rifle, but it was pointed at the ground now and there was only pity and concern in her eyes.

"Boil some water," she said, handing the rifle to Jess and immediately starting to examine her unexpected patient. "And get me the sheet off the mattress. Oh, dear, I wish I had my medical bag."

Jess did as he was told and it wasn't very long before the deputy was clean and bandaged up and looking much better.

"Thank you, ma'am. I do appreciate it."

"Now, you make yourself comfortable for a few minutes," Daisy told him. "There's a feather bed in that wagon, and Jess'll help you up to it. Supper'll be ready soon, and after you eat, you can get to sleep. You'll feel much better in the morning."

"I thank you again, ma'am, but no. I have to keep going. I've got that payroll money back from the bunch who took it, and they're not very happy with me. I have to get it back to Cheyenne before they run me down."

Daisy looked at Jess in wordless protest.

"Look, deputy," Jess said. "If you're worried about that bunch, you can stay with us. I'm not a bad hand with a gun if need be."

"No. They'd kill you both as soon as not. I can't bring that on you. If I move on, they'll let you be."

Jess frowned. "I'd come along to Cheyenne with you, but—"

He glanced at Daisy, and Hudson shook his head.

"No, I won't ask that of you. You can't leave the lady here alone and I can't expect her to make the trip to Cheyenne. I've got to go as quick as I can."

"You'll never make it."

The deputy pressed his lips together. "I'll do all right. Ask her. She patched me up. It's not that bad a hit. Now that I'm not bleeding anymore and had a rest, all I need is some of that coffee and a little of whatever you've got to eat, and I'll be ready to go again."

"Daisy?" Jess asked, unconvinced.

"It is a clean wound," she said. "I don't like the idea of him riding on tonight, but I suppose he can. It's a long ride back to Cheyenne, especially in the dark."

"Not even twenty miles now, ma'am," Hudson said. "And my horse knows the way."

"I got some rabbits," Jess said. "We'll get 'em cooked up and—"

"No time for that," Hudson said, getting to his feet. "I got one of the gang, Scott, the boss, and that's slowed 'em some, but I don't want 'em catching up to me, especially not here. Ma'am, do you have anything I can take with me now?"

While the deputy gulped down a cup of coffee, Daisy packed up the bread and butter and the two fresh apples she'd bought at the last minute for a surprise treat for Jess. The deputy thanked them both and mounted his horse with a good deal more steadiness than he had dismounted it. Jess peered into the night until even the vague shadow of him was gone.

Daisy took his arm. "I know you want to go with him."

"I would," he admitted. "But I'm not leaving you. Not with that gang nearby."

"You don't think they'll come here, do you?"

"I don't want you to worry about that." He patted her hand. "We don't have anything they'd want except coffee and rabbit, and if they insist we can give them those. I just hope the deputy gets through. If he shot their boss, they're all gonna be madder'n hornets. He's not in any kind of shape to do much fightin'."

"I hope he has as much of a lead on them as he thinks."

"Yeah."

Jess picked up the rabbits he'd dropped and started skinning them again. Daisy went on with getting ready to make supper. They were both quiet for a while, but then things started to feel normal again. Jess's heartbeat slowed, and he stopped tensing at every little noise from out of the darkness and the smell of roasting rabbit wafted to his nose, making him smile.

OOOOO

Jess was leaning back against a tree, enjoying the last of his coffee, his empty plate still beside him, when Daisy went to the wagon and rummaged in her purse. Then she came up to him, one hand behind her back.

"What are you up to?" he asked, seeing the gleam in her eye.

"I told Mike I'd bring him something from Cheyenne, but I don't think he'll miss these."

She handed him a very small white paper bag, the kind that came from a candy store, and his eyes lit.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, and he looked in the bag.

"Lemon drops! You got lemon drops and you didn't tell me?"

"Just don't tell Mike I gave you his."

"I'll get him some new ones when we get home," Jess said, and he popped one into his mouth. "Umm."

"They're a bribe, you know," Daisy said confidentially.

"Bribe?" he asked, the word only a little garbled.

"Slim will never let me go anywhere ever agin if he finds out we had trouble."

Jess sighed. "You got that right. And he'll sure let me hear about it, too."

"Then we're agreed. Neither of us will say anything about our visitor."

"No, of course not." Jess popped another lemon drop into his mouth and offered the bag to Daisy. "Really wasn't much of a visitor anyway. Didn't even slow us down."

"Right."

Daisy took a lemon drop and put it in her mouth, so coolly serene that he wondered if the candy would even melt.

After a minute or two, he folded up the bag and handed it back to her. "Do you mind keeping 'em for me? I don't want to crush 'em in my pocket or something."

"I can certainly do that. And how about some more coffee? I think there might be just one cup left."

"That'd be nice, Daisy. Thanks. I'll drink that and then take everything down to the stream to wash. Then we probably ought to get to sleep. Especially if you want to leave early."

"Ain't nobody leavin'."

Jess started for his gun, but froze when he heard the click of a pistol being cocked.

"Uh uh," the same voice said from the darkness. "There's no need of anybody dyin' just yet."

Jess was still sitting on the ground with his back against the tree. Daisy was standing between him and whoever was out there. There was nothing for him to do but raise his hands.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, I didn't really expect to be writing this, but it just popped up and so here it is. Please be aware that I'll be posting chapters as they're written, so I can't say how long it will be in between. I'm guessing about once a week. I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A man, tall and rail-thin, came out of the darkness brandishing a pistol.

"Evenin'."

Jess looked him over. "What is it you want?"

"No trouble, first off." The man gestured with his gun. "You just toss that iron of yours over this way."

Jess obliged him, and he stuffed the gun into his belt. Then he looked around a little.

"I see you've had a visitor here." He nodded toward the blood that still marked the ground where the deputy marshal had lain earlier. "I'd like to hear what he said to you."

"No visitor," Jess said, putting his arms down to his sides. "I skinned out a couple of rabbits for supper, that's all."

"That's a lot of blood for a pair of rabbits," the man said. "A lot of blood."

Daisy took a step toward him. "But you can see the bones and what's left on the spit."

She walked over to where she'd left her plate, showing the man. Out of his sight, Jess reached over to his own plate there on the ground beside him and grabbed the fork. Setting his teeth, he turned the tines up and quickly raked one down the underside of his forearm, deep as he could. Then he pressed the wound against the tree trunk behind him.

"I'd say somebody came in here to get patched up," the man told her. "Maybe from a bullet in the shoulder."

"I cut myself when I was doing the skinning," Jess said, holding up his arm, showing the torn place.

The man studied him for a second. "That blood's fresh. This has been here awhile."

"It's a deep cut," Jess told him, wincing as he pressed his opposite hand to the wound. "You startled me coming in like you did, and I barked it on this tree and opened it up again."

"And this?"

The man picked up what was left of the torn sheet. Daisy had wiped her hands on it after she bandaged up the deputy and then had used it to clean the blood off him.

The man smirked. "You make a habit of patching up game after you skin it?"

Jess pressed his lips together, and the other man tossed the blood-smeared sheet at him.

"We're gonna want to hear what your visitor said."

Jess wadded up the sheet and pressed it against his arm, slowing the bleeding. "We?"

"You can bring him on in now," the thin man called into the darkness.

There was rustling in the brush, and then two men shuffled into the circle of firelight. The big one, tall and heavyset, was leaning on the little one, making it almost impossible for the smaller man to walk.

"Now get to your feet," the thin one ordered. "And don't try anything."

Jess did as he was told, standing between the three men and Daisy.

"Welles," the small man hissed, swaying a little under his burden.

"Okay." The thin one, Welles, looked at Daisy and then nodded toward Jess's bedroll. "All right, Grandma, you spread out those blankets and make it quick."

Jess bristled, but Daisy only gave him a slight shake of her head and began making a bed on the ground.

"Welles," the small man hissed again, this time more urgent.

"You," Welles said to Jess. "Come over here."

Jess narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"

"I want you to give me a reason not to blow your head off."

Daisy looked up at Jess, silently pleading with him. Jess hurled the wadded sheet to the ground and went over to the man with the gun.

"You get on his other side," Welles said, nodding toward the big man. "Help hold him up until that bed's ready."

Jess ducked under the man's arm and took on his shoulders what felt like his full weight. He could feel the heat and sweat pouring from the man's body and smell the blood that stained his shirt low on one side and soaked down onto his pants.

"Scott," Jess spat, looking up into the gimlet-hard black eyes.

"Well, I guess that saves the trouble of introductions," Welles said. "If you know who he is, the deputy must have told you about us, so you know why we're here."

"So happens, I don't know why you're here. We don't have anything as'd interest you."

"You know," Welles said with a humorless laugh, "we'd all fare a lot better if we start out by being honest with each other, don't you think?"

"I don't—"

Welles shoved the pistol under Jess's chin. "Don't bother saying it if it's gonna be a lie."

Jess clamped his mouth shut, and braced himself under Scott's increasingly heavy weight. The little man on his other side was giving out fast.

"Lay him down," Daisy said finally.

Jess moved Scott to the side of the blankets and eased him down to his knees. Then he slipped out from under his arm. The small man did the same, losing his hat in the process and letting fall a wealth of moonlight-pale hair.

Jess caught his breath, and the woman glared at him.

Daisy put one hand over her heart. "Oh."

Jess said nothing. He just turned Scott onto his backside and then helped him lie down. Scott's black eyes never left Jess's face.

"That's mine, boy," he said, jerking his chin toward the woman. "Don't make me tell you twice."

"You get no argument from me." Jess got to his feet, saw the woman eyeing him, and glared back at her. Then he clutched his still-bleeding arm. "Now what?"

"Find out where it is, Welles," Scott growled. "Go on."

"Let's get down to brass tacks," Wells told Jess. "We want that money."

"What money?" Jess asked.

Welles grabbed Daisy's arm. Jess lunged toward him, but Welles cocked his gun and pressed it against Daisy's side.

"This your ma?"

Jess stood stock still, his whole body wound tight. "Near as."

"Then you ought to mind your manners," Welles said, tightening his grip, "or Grandma here won't like it."

The blonde woman looked at Welles disdainfully as she knelt there tending the wounded man, but she didn't say anything.

Scott fixed his eyes on Jess. "You'd do well to answer him, boy, and make it quick.

"We ain't got any money," Jess spat, and then he fished in his pocket. "I got three dollars. Take it."

He threw the bills down onto the outlaw's chest. Quick as lightening, the big man grabbed Jess's ankle and yanked him to the ground.

Welles turned his pistol on him before he could scramble up again. "I don't know as Mr. Scott heard you right, boy."

"Jess," Daisy breathed as Welles turned the gun back on her.

Jess pushed himself to his knees, breathing hard. "We don't have any money. Never did."

The woman was watching him again. He swept his eyes over her and then curled his lip. Her dark eyes narrowed, and he looked away coldly.

"Now we know that deputy come through here," Welles said. "We tracked him about eight miles past here, and he didn't have that money anymore, so we figure he left it with you. Now, do we need to bust up you and this whole camp? Or are you gonna give it over quiet like?"

"I tell you we don't have it. Yeah, okay, the deputy rode in." Jess nodded at Daisy. "She fixed him up, and he rode on. We never saw any money. All he said was he was headed over to Cheyenne."

Welles shrugged. "Seems he wasn't able to finish up his ride."

Jess glared at him. "You mean you killed him."

"I mean he didn't give the right answers to the questions that was put to him. Don't let him set you a bad example."

"You take a look, Welles," the injured man said. "Callie'll see you don't have anybody trying to slow you down."

The blonde pulled her own pistol from the holster belted around her hips and gestured at Daisy with it. "You just come right over here, ma'am. No need for you to be getting in the way." She looked over at Jess and smiled a little as Daisy came to stand beside her. "Your boy there'll feel a lot steadier knowing I'm lookin' out for you."

Jess could do nothing but stand, fists clenched, as Welles went through everything they had, dumping out Jess's worn saddlebags and Daisy's carpet bag and her purse, grinning as he tucked the little bag of lemon drops into his vest. He emptied out the food supplies they'd brought for the trail and then poked around the feather mattress that lay in the bed of the wagon. He was just about to slash it open with his knife when Scott stopped him.

"No need for that, Welles. I think I'd like to keep that. Just feel around in it. You can tell if there's anything inside."

Welles did as he was told and then shook his head. "Nothin'."

"All right," Scott said. "They've got it hid somewhere then."

Jess took a quick step toward him. "I tell you we never saw it!"

Welles grabbed his arm, jerking him backward and jamming his pistol just at the base of his skull. "And I tell you that deputy didn't have it."

"We know he had it when he rode out of our camp," Scott said. "We know he didn't have it when we caught up to him." One side of his wide mouth turned up. "Can't say as I didn't sympathize with him. It's hard to stay in the saddle when you're about bled out, but he picked a poor time for passin' out. Seems he woke up with his horse gone and us not."

Welles forced Jess to his knees, still with the gun shoved against the back of his head. "We had him just like this, boy, and he was fool enough to keep his mouth shut when he ought to have been talkin'. Don't end up like him."

Jess clenched his jaw, quivering with the need to slap that smug look off the thin man's face.

"Let him go, Welles," Scott said after a moment. "You always make things harder than they need to be. Why Jess here just needs to understand the situation."

"But—"

"I said let him go."

Welles shoved himself away from Jess. Jess went over to stand by Daisy and gave her just a hint of a smile. She gave him a trembling smile in return.

Scott nodded. "That's better. Now, I'm gonna see if this lady will tend to me like she done for that deputy."

Daisy pursed her lips.

"Don't tell me no now, ma'am, because then I won't have much need to keep either of you around."

"I'll need some hot water and bandages," she said stiffly. "And I'm guessing you still have that bullet in you."

Scott shifted a little on his pallet and winced. "Seems so."

"I can see to you," the blonde said.

"You're a good kid, Callie Beth, but you about killed me the last time you tried to fetch a bullet out of me. I think I'll give this lady here a try."

Daisy glanced at Jess and then looked again at Scott, this time studying the wound. "I'll need a knife."

"Give her my knife," the outlaw told Callie. "And my pocket knife."

Callie rummaged in his pocket for the smaller knife and then pulled the buck knife from the sheath on his belt.

Jess's fingers twitched. He could be on the man in half a second and hold that buck knife to his throat until he made Welles and Callie turn over their guns.

"Don't even think it," Welles said. "Sit down on the ground."

Jess took a step toward him.

"Uh uh. Right where you are."

Jess hesitated, and Welles nodded significantly toward Daisy. Jess sat. A moment later his hands were tied behind him, tight enough to make his fingers tingle.

"All right, Grandma," Welles said. "You go on and tend to Mr. Scott there and don't try anything. Your boy won't stand a chance if you do."

Daisy looked over at Jess, and he exhaled heavily. "Go ahead, Daisy."

Daisy turned to Welles and lifted her chin. "I still need hot water and some bandages."

"Get her what she needs, Callie," Welles ordered.

The blonde sprang to her feet. "I don't answer to you, Stan Welles. Get it yourself."

"Do what he says," Scott barked, and with a pout, she went over to the fire to boil some water.

"I'll need what's left of that sheet for bandages," Daisy said.

"Don't look any too clean anymore," Scott growled. "Get somethin' else."

"I don't—"

"You got a petticoat, ain't you?"

Daisy sniffed and then, turning disdainfully, she bent down and tore a discreet three inches from the bottom of her flounced petticoat.

"You got whiskey, boy?" Scott demanded.

Jess glared at him. "No."

"You find any whiskey in their gear, Welles?"

"Nothin', boss. Sorry."

Scott grabbed his arm. "Cut me off a piece of that belt. It's about half too big for you as it is."

Welles took the buck knife and cut about five inches of leather from the end of his belt and put it between Scott's teeth. By then, Callie had the water boiling, and Daisy dropped both knives in. It wasn't long before she had the bullet out and the bleeding stopped and, with Callie's help, was wrapping the petticoat bandage around the big outlaw's middle. Scott had bit clean through that piece of leather Welles had given him, but he never passed out.

Jess had never taken his eyes off Daisy the whole time she'd been working on him, calm and sure as she always was in a crisis. But she wasn't of any use to Scott anymore. Neither was he. A plan. He had to think of something before it was too late.

"You're a good nurse, Daisy," he said as he watched her blotting the sweat from her patient's forehead. "I can't even remember all the times you've patched me up and then tended me till I was better."

"You don't have to talk around me, boy," Scott gasped. "Ain't nothin' happenin' to the lady just now."

Welles cocked his gun and pointed it at Jess. "Don't mean he needs you for any doctorin'."

Daisy stopped what she was doing and looked calmly at Scott. "If anything happens to Jess, then you won't need me either, because I won't be doing any more nursing here."

"Now, ma'am—"

She folded her hands in her lap, leaving the end of the bandage lying loose where she'd left it.

"Go on, Grandma," Welles barked, cocking his pistol.

"Back down, Welles," Scott ordered. "You just back right down."

"Fine," Welles muttered, lowering the gun. "But what about the money? She gets you where you can ride again and then what? There'll be law after us before long. You'll have to lie still at least until mornin' and then what? Are we just gonna up and leave that money behind?"

"We'll track the money down, that's what." Scott shifted on the blankets, grimacing.

"We won't have time! We probably won't make it out of here anyway, held up like we are."

"Then why don't you track after that money now?" Jess asked. "While he's still restin' up? Then you'll have it when he's ready to go."

Welles sneered. "And leave you here with just Callie to stand guard? And him like to pass out any time now?"

Jess shrugged a little. "Thought I'd go along with you."

"Don't make me laugh."

"No foolin'," Jess said as earnestly as he could manage. "I figure you could take me to where you caught up to that deputy, and we could track back from there to where he hid the money. There's no other explanation for what happened to it."

"We already looked," Welles said. "What makes you think you could do any better?"

"I'm a good tracker. I've scouted for the army and ridden with a lot of posses."

"Yeah," Welles jeered. "Army man, big lawman, and you're gonna lead us to stolen money and then let us ride off with it?"

"It ain't my money. And if leadin' you to it'll get you away from us, then I'll lead you to it."

"What kinda fools do you think we are, boy?"

"No," Scott said. "I like it. I like it just fine."

"But, boss—"

"What's he gonna do, Welles? If he steps outta line, he knows I got the lady here. And if she tries to pull anything while she's tendin' me, she knows you got him. I'd say that suits me all the way around."

"What about me?" Callie said after a minute.

"You'll stay here and tend the camp."

She glanced at Jess from under her long lashes and then put her hand on Scott's burly arm. "Better let me go along, honey."

"I don't need her," Welles snapped.

"And what's to keep him from taking off with the money once Jess takes him to it?" Callie asked Scott, pouting slightly. "I'm not so sure he didn't mean for that deputy to shoot you."

Welles' face reddened. "I never—"

"Shut up, Welles," Scott said wearily. "You'll take her along. If you don't try anything, well and good. If you do, you know she can see to you. And I know she'll bring me the money back." He stroked his hand up her arm possessively. "Like a good girl."

She smiled at him, and then she stood up. "Come on, Welles, you heard him."

She took the buck knife, still stained red, and went over to Jess.

"I know how to use this," she said, sinking her fingers into his hair so she could yank his head backward and lay the flat of the knife against his throat, and her voice was very clear. "And my gun." She abruptly released him and leaned down a little to cut the rope that bound his wrists, bringing her mouth close to his ear as she did. "Don't think I'll be any easier to get around than Welles there," she murmured, the words warm against his skin. "Don't think it for one minute."

He let his breath come a little faster as his eyes met hers, and he made his voice low and husky. "Wouldn't dream of it."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Since reviews are big motivators for me and keep me from getting bogged down with a story, I have usually posted my longer stories chapter by chapter as I write them, but I'm wondering now if that's not the way it's generally done in the Laramie fandom. Would it be better if I took this down and posted the whole thing when it's finished? What would you prefer? Let me know what you think. I'd love to know what you think of this chapter, too.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Callie Parker held her gun on the old woman, while Welles and the one called Jess lifted Hawk onto the feather mattress in the wagon bed. By then blood was running freely from the wound in Jess's forearm, dripping off his elbow and staining his shirtfront and his rolled up sleeve.

"Please," the old woman said. "Let me at least bandage him up."

"Go on," Hawk said, breathless after being moved.

"Don't do me any favors, Scott," Jess spat.

"Go on, Callie. Let her go. Jess here's got a night's work ahead of him. No use him bleeding out."

Callie stepped back a little, and the woman ran to Jess, her eyes full of tender concern. Soft-minded old biddy. Still Callie couldn't quite blame her for fawning over the man. He was definitely something to look at. Not a scrawny beanpole like Stan Welles. Not a thick-headed slab of beef like Hawker Scott. Jess had the sleek grace of a mountain cat and eyes like a mountain spring. At least those impossibly blue eyes would have been like clear mountain water if they hadn't been smoldering with cold fury. She had to force herself not to smile. Hawker wouldn't at all like what she was thinking.

She watched the old woman tear off another strip of her petticoat and then, once she had cleaned Jess's arm with what was left of the hot water, bandage the wound.

"Thanks, Daisy," he said low, squeezing her arm.

Daisy put her hand to his cheek, saying nothing and everything.

"All right," Callie said, waving the woman toward the wagon. "Come on. Hawk needs you more than he does."

"And we've got work for you, boy," Welles said as Daisy went back to Hawk. "You get them horses over here."

"We don't have any saddles," Jess said.

"That's all right. Callie and me can ride bareback. And you'd do just as well walkin' anyhow."

"You can all walk," Hawk said while Daisy fussed with his bandages. "I ain't havin' any of those horses bust a leg steppin' in some hole in the dark. If we're gonna get out of here in one piece, we're gonna need 'em."

"But, boss—"

"It's only eight mile back where we caught up to the deputy. You'll make that with time to spare before there's light enough to track by. Now, you take Jess here and get along."

Callie sneered as Daisy hurried over to Jess again, clinging to both of his hands, looking at him as if she'd never see him again. Well, it might end up that way, true enough, and that might be kind of a pity, but things had to be the way they were sometimes. And if Hawk finally ended up with this money, things would be a sight easier than they had been. And maybe she'd finally be able to have some ladies' things to wear, instead of an old coat two sizes too big, a ratty old flannel shirt that Welles was too tall for, and jeans and boots stripped off a dead boy. Then that cold-eyed Jess wouldn't look at her like she was dirt, not when she was cleaned up and dressed like a lady

"Come on," Welles said, looking more than a little disgusted, and he and Jess and Callie began walking toward the road.

"And don't you forget, boy," Hawk called out after them. "You give them a hard time or all three of you don't come back 'long with the money, this lady here won't last long."

Jess looked back over his shoulder at him, eyes like ice. "I ain't forgettin' anything, Scott. Not anything."

Hawk laughed low in his throat and then motioned to Callie. "Come here, girl."

She went to him.

He squeezed her hand. "Don't you forget who that money belongs to."

"I won't."

"Or who you belong to."

His grip on her hand tightened until she wanted to cry out, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Finally, he laughed again.

"I know you won't forget, girl. You know you ain't got anything better comin' anytime soon."

He lay back and closed his eyes, and Callie followed Welles and Jess into the darkness.

"We ought to tie him up," Welles said once they reached the road. "We don't need him running off on us first time he gets a chance."

Callie looked Jess over, and he stared her down the whole while.

"He won't," she said. "His 'ma' is back there."

Jess kept his mouth shut tight.

Welles gave her a hard look, wary and uncertain, but she only glared at him and moved on.

They walked a long while, and then Welles slowed to a stop, squinting in the faint starlight.

"This is the place."

Callie looked around. "It looks like every other place we been. How do you know?"

"'cause that's the ditch we left the deputy in."

Jess walked over to the side of the road and then knelt to look down into the dark rut. He bowed his head for a moment, and then he looked up at Welles, eyes blazing. "You could at least'a buried him."

"Maybe we'll let you dig him a grave," Welles said with a smirk, "and make it deep enough for two."

Jess clenched his jaw. "What now? It's too dark to track yet."

"I'm gonna get some sleep," Welles said. "What do you think, Callie Beth?"

"Yeah," she said. "All right. You want to take first watch or me?"

"No reason we can't both get rested up. Big man here will do just as well tied to a tree for the night." Welles nodded toward a fair-sized oak about ten feet off the road. "That one'll do, boy. Go on and sit down."

"I'm not gonna try anything," Jess said. "Not as long as Scott has Daisy."

Welles grinned. "I don't care."

Jess sat with his back to the tree. Welles pulled some leather thongs from his coat pocket, wrenched Jess's arms backward around the tree trunk and swiftly tied them. Then he pulled some jerky from his other pocket and handed Callie a piece.

"You might as well eat now. We won't have much more till we get back with the money. And they don't have much anything to eat back at the camp but another can of beans."

Callie wanted to throw his offering back into his face, but she knew better. She ate what she could when she could. There was no knowing what she might get any other time.

"What about him?" she asked with a nod toward their prisoner.

"He and the old lady had their supper. Rabbit, as I recollect." He shoved Jess's bandaged arm with the toe of his boot. "That's how you cut yourself, isn't it, boy."

Jess clenched his teeth and said nothing.

With a snort, Welles moved a few feet away and stretched out on the ground, using his coat to pillow his head.

"You're welcome to come over my way, Callie Beth," he said with the lift of his eyebrows. "It'll be a lot cozier that way."

"You'll be cozy with my knife between your ribs," she said sweetly.

"Go on then." He smiled and lowered his voice, a sly look in his eyes. "You might wish you'd been more agreeable if we get back to Scott and I tell him about how you were looking at pretty boy there."

"You're out of your mind." She put both hands on her hips, making her own voice soft. "We both know he'll be dead before it gets to be night again, no matter what Hawk told him. Besides, I'm Hawk's woman. He takes care of me, and I don't need anybody else."

Smirking, Welles closed his eyes and pulled his hat down over his face. Soon he was snoring.

Callie sat herself on a fallen tree, her blood boiling in her veins. How much she hated the sniveling little weasel. If she thought Hawk wouldn't mind, she'd have slit his throat long before now. But, as it was, she had to put up with him. She had to put up with living hand to mouth and never having anything to call her own and running. Always running. If she could only—

She felt those icy blue eyes on her and she lifted her eyes to meet them. The man despised her. She knew the look all too well.

She smiled coldly and went over to him, running one hand through her long blonde hair and letting it fall like silk. "Like what you see?"

He looked away, and then looked back again through his thick black lashes. Her mouth turned up a little at the corners. She knew that look, too. Plenty of men thought she was trash and still looked at her that way.

"Or maybe you're just tired of spending your time with little old ladies."

He pressed his lips into a thin line, and she thought he would again not answer, but instead he looked her up and down, his eyes coming to rest on the thick rope of hair in her hand.

"Where'd you get hair like that with them dark eyes?"

She laughed softly. "Where'd you get eyes like that with that dark hair?"

His eyes flashed and he looked away.

"You think you can really track that money?" she asked after awhile, more to hear his low, husky drawl than to find out his opinion.

"Yeah," he said, and for once there wasn't scorn in his eyes or his voice. "I do. Too bad you're gonna give it to Scott."

"We're the ones who got it in the first place," she said with a belligerent lift of her chin. "Who else ought to have it."

He shrugged. "All I want is shed of the three of you."

His eyes met hers again and then as swiftly moved away.

"Why?" she asked him.

"I just want to get back to the ranch."

"Why?"

He looked up again, this time annoyed. "Why? It's where I work."

"Doing what?"

"I'm the town mayor," he snapped. "What do you think? I'm a ranch hand, that's what."

He didn't seem too happy about that.

"Do you like it?"

There was a tinge of bitterness in his laugh. "What's not to like? It's the nicest, dullest, cleanest spread this side of the Mississippi. Nothin' but cows and chickens and chores and workin' from sunup to sundown while my boss rakes in all the money. Yeah, I like it fine." He scowled and looked away again. "I wouldn't be here now if I hadn't been ordered to nursemaid the old lady to Cheyenne and back."

She narrowed her eyes. "I thought you said she's like a ma to you."

"She's housekeeper for my boss. She likes it when I treat her nice." He curled his lip. "Those lemon drops Welles there stole from her purse, she bought 'em for me special. Like I'm her own son. Like somehow I can take the place of the one she lost in the war."

That was pretty cold, Callie had to admit, but it wasn't nothing she didn't understand. Nothing she hadn't done herself.

"The more I make up to the both of them, her and my boss, the easier I have it." He looked her over coolly. "You know how it is."

Maybe she ought to have slapped him for that, but he was right. She did know.

"I guess with Scott your chores are some different," Jess said, his voice softer now and more bitter, "but it all boils down to the same thing. The man who owns the fiddle calls the tune and the rest of us dance whenever he says."

She sat on the ground facing him, watching his expression. He only looked out toward the road, and they were both silent for a long time.

"You have a last name, Jess?" she asked finally.

"Harper," he said, his voice very low now. "What's yours?"

"Parker."

His left eyebrow curved up. "Parker? Not Scott?"

She didn't know why, but her face turned flaming hot. "Not Scott."

He nodded a little, and she thought there was a touch of sympathy there.

"We don't need a preacher to make us what we are to each other!" she cried, and then she looked fearfully over at Welles, but he was snorting like an old sow.

"Sure," Jess said. "Makes it easier to kick you over when somethin' he likes better comes along."

She whipped her knife from its sheath and held it to his cheek. "You think you're all that, don't you. I can real quick make it where no woman will ever look at you again."

"And that won't make Scott treat you any better than he does."

She looked into his eyes. They weren't cold now. They weren't disdainful. They were just sorry. Sorry for her.

She glared at him, but she moved the blade away from his face. "Don't you pity me. I'm about to have more money than any two-bit cowpoke'll ever see in his whole life, so don't you dare pity me. Like you said, we both eat some dirt to get along." She laughed a little. "Won't Hawk think it's funny when he finds out you don't care if that old lady lives or dies."

"He's gonna kill us both no matter what," Jess said, "so what difference does it make?" He blew out his breath and looked up at the sky. "I'm tired of it all anyway. Grubbing for every cent, taking orders from some hidebound Sunday-school rancher who gives orders like he's the all-fired Almighty. If I ever had a stake, I'd shake off the dirt from that ranch so quick, he'd choke on the dust storm." He glared at her. "Now I gotta take you and Happy over there to the money and end up with a bullet for my pains."

She looked over at Welles again and then moved closer to Jess. "And what if you didn't have to turn loose of it? What if you could get it and keep it?"

"Don't be stupid." The scorn was back in his eyes. "Welles ain't gonna let that happen. Neither are you."

"No. I'm not." She put her knife back into its sheath. "But I was wondering."

He frowned. "Then I guess I'd be free. I could do what I wanted and never answer to anybody. I could—"

He looked away again.

"You could what?"

His eyes met hers, and his frown deepened. He was angry again.

"What could you do?" she pressed. "Why are you mad?"

"No reason," he muttered.

"Why?"

"I don't like being pushed is all." The blue depths of his eyes smoldered again as they met hers, and she could feel the tenseness in him. "I don't like being pushed to do anything." He swallowed hard, and his voice was suddenly husky. "Especially something I mighta liked otherwise."

Her stomach tightened and she felt the heat rise in her face again. There was something wildly inviting about the hard downcurve of his mouth.

"You're a liar," she breathed.

"Yeah," he said, cold again. "And I'm tired. If you and Welles expect me to find that money once it gets light, you'd best let me get a little sleep."

He closed his eyes, and she cursed at him. Then she moved away from him again and went back to sit on the fallen tree where she could watch him.

She didn't sleep.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Jess just might be playing with fire. What do you think? **

**I appreciate you all letting me know what you prefer regarding how stories are posted. I've decided to continue posting chapter by chapter, but I'll make sure and mark the story complete when it's done so any of you who would rather wait to read will know. I'll update as quickly as I can. Thanks for your patience.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Callie woke when Welles kicked the fallen log she was laying her head against. She didn't remember falling asleep or even laying down, but she must have sometime during the night. Jess was still tied to the oak tree, still looking at her, those blue eyes still stormy and forbidding.

"Go down and get some water from the pond," Welles said. "I'll watch him."

For once, she didn't bother telling Welles what she thought of toadying little bootlicks and snatched up the bucket he'd found somewhere. Once she reached the pond, she knelt down in the long grass and splashed cold water on her face. Then she stopped, waiting for the pond surface to smooth so she could see her reflection. How dirty she was. Hawk's blood was still on her hands, a streak of it on her neck, splotches of it on her coat and on her jeans. Her hair—

"_Where'd you get hair like that?"_

Her hair was tangled and frizzled up in the morning's dampness and had grass and bits of bark stuck in it. She swiftly ran her fingers through it, smoothing it down, pulling out the debris. It took only a minute or two to plait it into one long, loose braid that she let hang over her shoulder. Hawk had always liked her to braid her hair. She wondered if—

She scrubbed her hands in the pond water and washed her neck. She tried to get the worst of the spots out of her clothes, but there wasn't much she could do at this point. Still, she looked a little better by the time she got back to where Welles was waiting for her.

He took a deep drink of the water and then took more of the jerky from his pocket and started eating. She held out her hand, and he gave her some, too. Then she noticed Jess was still watching her. Or was it the jerky?

"What about him?" she asked Welles.

"What do I care about him?"

"He's not gonna be much of a tracker if he passes out in the road."

Welles looked at the prisoner, faintly disgusted, and then handed her another piece of dried meat. "Go on then. I'm gonna go take a look around, make sure we ain't been followed. Don't let him out of your sight."

She nodded. "I won't."

Once Welles was gone, she went over and crouched beside Jess.

"Hungry?" she asked, waving the jerky in front of his nose.

He frowned and looked off into the trees. "I'll do."

Nettled, she stood up and was about to walk away when that low drawl of his stopped her.

"I'm about lamed sitting like this all night," he said. "If you want me to find that money, you'd best let me get the knots out of my bones."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Like I told Scott," he said, "it ain't my money." His eyes swept over her and then turned cold. "And I know you're not likely to give me any share in it. If finding it will get me out of here alive, then that's what I'll do. Whatever else, I know I'm dead if I don't."

"Got that right," she said, her voice low and hard. "And don't forget it."

She cut the thongs, and he groaned softly as he eased his arms down to his sides and then struggled to his feet. He looked at the water bucket and then questioningly at her.

"Go ahead," she told him.

He dropped to his knees and filled his cupped hands with water, taking it down greedily and then scrubbing his wet hands over his face and the back of his neck. She sat on the fallen tree again, eating jerky with her gun on her lap, watching as he reached his hand inside his shirt to rub his shoulder. His grimace deepened as he switched to the other shoulder and then started picking at the knot that held the bandage to his left forearm.

"You'd best let that alone, Jess."

He glared at her, wiping every bit of pain from his expression as he went on with what he was doing.

"All right. Fine." She went over to him, leaving her gun back at the tree. "I don't want you to think you have a chance at that," she told him, "and I sure don't want you to forget that Welles is looking for any excuse to put a bullet in you, and he'll be coming back here any minute now."

Jess's hard expression didn't change.

"Won't do if you get that infected," she said, swiftly undoing the knot and then the bandage, and then dipping her bandana in the water. "Hold still."

She cleaned the long cut, quick and efficient.

"That bandage's none too clean, but I guess it'll have to do for now."

"Needs washin'." His eyes flicked toward the pond. "No good sullying the drinking water."

"You'd love to go down there, wouldn't you." She crumpled the bandage in her hand and then snatched up her gun. "You just don't move. Like I said, Welles'll be right back, and he wants to kill you. Don't give either of us an excuse."

The pond was only a little ways off. She could see Jess most of the time, and if he tried to get through that brush, she'd sure hear him. It took her only a minute or so to rinse out the bloodied bandage and wring it dry. Then she turned to go back to where she left him. After a few steps, she stopped, half concealing herself behind a tree.

He had his back to her and was easing his shirt off his shoulders, wincing at every movement. When he finally had it off, he stuck it into his belt so he could use both hands to wash his face again and then run wet fingers through his thick black curls. Afterward, he braced his hands against the small of his back and started stretching out again, rolling first one sleek-muscled shoulder and then the other, arching his back and neck, flexing his upper arms, slow and alluring and unaware. Yeah, just like a mountain cat, lean and wild and beautiful. It was gonna be a shame to have to kill him.

He leaned over to scoop up more water and then splashed it over his chest. He was using his wadded-up shirt to dry himself when she moved a step closer and snapped a twig under her boot.

He spun and clutched the shirt against his chest, blue eyes blazing when he saw her looking at him.

She looked him boldly up and down. "Don't rush on my account."

"What am I?" he growled. "Show stock?"

He'd covered the upper part of his chest, but she could still see the hard-cut muscles of his stomach, and she gave him a sly grin.

"Ain't only men can look."

He ducked his head and looked up at her, a little trickle of water running from the dark curl that had fallen back over his forehead. "I ain't never had a lady look at me like that before."

"Well, now I know you're a liar, or ain't you never been around anybody but old ladies and them prim Sunday School cats who faint if a man so much as takes off his neckerchief?"

He gave her a reluctant, knowing grin, and put his shirt on again, not bothering to button it. Then he held out his left arm. "You get that bandage washed?"

"Yeah." She swallowed, realizing her mouth was suddenly dry. "You'd best come sit down while I wrap up your arm again."

He sat beside her on the fallen tree, looking at her when he thought she didn't notice and then swiftly looking away. What would those eyes look like when they were smoldering with something besides anger? Or maybe she already knew.

"There," she said as she tied off the bandage. "Now, you'd better eat something if you're gonna be any use trackin'."

She handed him the last of the jerky, and their fingers touched as he took it. He pulled away as if he'd been burned.

"What's the matter?" she spat. "You think it's catchin'?"

"Might already be caught," he breathed, wetting his lips. "Might be if we were anyplace else, any time else. Maybe if Welles wasn't coming back."

Something like fire washed over her, and she could hardly catch a breath. "What do you mean?"

He touched the long braid over her shoulder, tracing his fingers down the length of it. "No good thinkin' of what can never be. I only know that if I had a woman like you, I wouldn't be such a fool as not marry her."

"Liar," she whispered, feeling her lips drawn helplessly closer to his. "Liar."

"Yeah," he said, pulling back from her and then looking out toward the road, "just as well. Some things might make a man wind up with lead poisonin'."

Welles came through the trees a second or two later. Jess gave her a warning look and started eating the jerky she had given him.

"All clear from what I can tell." Welles gestured toward Jess with his gun. "Time to get moving, boy. The boss is waiting for us. You wouldn't want anything to happen to Grandma back at the camp would you? "

Jess glanced at Callie, covering a smirk. "No," he said, all wide eyed and earnest. "I'll find the money. I swear it."

"All right. Get moving. Come on, Callie."

Welles led them back to the ditch that held the deputy's body, and Jess tracked from there. About three miles back toward the camp, he found where Hudson had briefly stopped the night before.

"We've been here," Welles growled. "We didn't find anything."

"You don't know how to look," Jess said.

He tracked through the trees for awhile and across a narrow stream. Finding nothing on the other side, he went back to the stream and waded down it a little ways. Finally, Welles prodded him in the back with the muzzle of his gun.

"What are you doing? Leading us in circles?"

"I'm trying to find your dadgum money for you," Jess said. "Why don't you just let me?"

"How do you expect to find it if you're all the time looking up at the sky instead of at the ground."

Jess stopped stock still where he was and wiped the sweat off his face with one hand. "Like I said, you don't know how to look."

Welles prodded him again, and Jess spun on him.

"You shove that gun in my back just one more time, Welles, and you might as well use it, because I won't be taking one step more."

Callie tugged at Welles' arm. "We're wasting time. Hawk'll be waiting for us."

"Not much longer," Jess said.

He looked up at a tree that was a couple of yards ahead of them. A pair of saddlebags hung over a branch, mostly hidden by leaves.

Welles laughed almost soundlessly. "Well, I'll be."

"We can only hope," Jess muttered.

Welles scowled at him and started to shove him with his gun again, but he decided to point with it instead. "All right then. You just shinny on up that tree and bring 'em down. Be quick about it."

Jess did as he was told, climbing effortlessly until he reached the money and then holding the saddlebags against his shoulder as he stood on the branch. He didn't say anything. He only looked at Callie, not pleading, not afraid, just searching her face, clearly wanting to know what she was going to do now. He knew as well as she did what Welles would do next.

"Go on and throw 'em down," Welles ordered when Jess didn't move. "Your mama's waiting for you."

Jess threw the bags into the brush at the foot of the tree, still looking at Callie. "Don't bother to lie, Welles. You know you're not gonna let me get any closer to that camp than right here and right now."

Welles smirked. "Well now, maybe, just could be, you're right."

"Hawk ordered you to bring him back," Callie said. "He's gonna be mad if you don't."

"Can I help it if the boy made a try for my gun and I had to shoot him?"

"I'll tell Hawk," Callie warned. "I swear I will."

Welles looked at her and then scratched under his hatband with the muzzle of his pistol. "No, Callie Beth, I don't think you will."

She glared at him. "And just why not?"

"Because then I'd have to tell the boss what you told little Jess here when you thought I was sleepin'."

She felt the blood sink out of her face. "What do you mean? I didn't tell him anything."

"No? Nothin' at all? Nothin' about wantin' to know what he'd do if he didn't have to turn loose of the money? And what he'd do if he could get it and keep it?"

There was a block of ice in the pit of her stomach. What else had she said? And what had he heard?

"That was just talk. I told him so."

Welles laughed nastily. "And what about this morning? Ain't only men can look? Seems you got quite a show, too."

"You were watching us."

"How long do you think it takes to check if there's anybody out looking for us?" Welles smiled. "Yeah, Scott'll be real interested in what I have to say."

Hawk would kill her. What Welles had seen wasn't much, but it was enough to set Hawk off. He'd told her before what he'd do if he ever caught her looking at another man, and he'd bruised her up real good just so's she'd remember.

"So what's it gonna be, Callie Beth?" Welles asked. "Do I see to Jess here and now or take you both back to Scott like he told me to?"

She looked up at Jess. He still had his eyes on her. He was just stringing her along, wasn't he? But no, he understood. He knew what it was like to have to eat dirt just to get along, what it was like to have nothin' of his own and want nothing but to not be shoved around anymore. He knew what she was as well as she did, but still . . .

"_Might be if we were anyplace else, any time else. Maybe if Welles wasn't coming back."_

She remembered the fire in his eyes and the enticing curve of his mouth as he'd said it. Maybe he was a liar. Maybe he wasn't. But here she was with only Welles between her and Jess and all the money they'd ever need.

"Well?" Welles pressed.

She nodded toward Jess. "You'd better get him on down outta that tree if you're gonna do it. I don't want Hawk getting mad at me."

"I guess we understand one another then." Welles chuckled and then looked up at Jess. "Do like she says."

Jess set his jaw and didn't move.

"I said come down." Welles waved his pistol. "I can shoot you there just as easy. You won't feel the fall anyway."

Jess swung down, branch to branch, and dropped the last few feet. Then he stood there at the base of the tree with the saddlebags right next to him. He still looked at Callie.

"Nobody's helpin' you," she snapped at him, drawing her gun. "Now get over here and bring the money."

He went to Welles and handed over the saddlebags. Welles passed them to Callie and turned his gun on Jess. "Go on and put your back to that tree."

Jess did, never taking his eyes from Callie. "At least I know my days of takin' orders and eatin' dirt are over."

"Shut up," she spat. "Go on, Welles. Give him to three like you did the deputy."

Welles chuckled and aimed at Jess's head. "One. Two."

He twitched as the bullet hit him and pitched forward to land at Jess's feet.

"Three," Callie said with a smile.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'd love to know what you think. **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Jess stood there, his back still against the tree, those blue eyes narrowed and fixed on her.

"That was a mite closer than I like to cut it," he said, a little breathless, and then he gave her a one-sided grin and took a step toward her. "You're my kind of woman."

Callie kept her still-smoking gun aimed at his heart. "Don't try it. I don't trust you no matter what sweet lies you tell."

He held up his hands. "Smart, too. Yeah. My kind of woman. So what now? You going back to Scott or what?"

"Just don't rush me."

Her heart was running a mile a minute, and she didn't know why. It wasn't as if she hadn't killed before. A time or two anyway. When she had to. And she'd wanted to kill that weasel Welles almost as long as she'd known him. Maybe it was the idea of facing Hawk with what she'd done that made her blood skitter like water drops on a hot frying pan. Or maybe it was the idea of never having to face him again. Of running free. Free from want. Free from fear. Free from stuffing down every bit of herself when he treated her like she was nothing but a pack animal to fetch and tote for him and not sass or be contrary whenever he decided he wanted a woman's comfort.

She looked over at Jess, and her heartbeat sped faster. His eyes were still on her. Still not afraid. Still not pleading. Just wondering what she was going to do.

"_Might be if we were anyplace else, any time else. Maybe if Welles wasn't coming back."_

Welles wasn't coming back. He wasn't coming back ever again. And it could be Hawk was dead by now. He'd been hit bad. Sure, the old lady had patched him up, but that didn't mean he'd lived. Or that he had to live. Then there'd be just the old lady to see to. She'd lived long enough already anyway. After that it'd be just little Callie Beth and the money . . . and Jess.

She thought back on when she'd watched him washing up. Had it been just that morning? It seemed an age ago, but she could see every tantalizing move he'd made, every corded muscle under that taut skin, every wet curl of his hair. She could hear the deep, drawling rumble of his voice, like black velvet in her ears, and imagine how that rumble would feel if she had her head pillowed on his chest, and what it would be like if the smolder in those eyes was something she had put there.

"_I don't like being pushed to do anything," _he'd said in that riveting, husky voice. _"Especially something I mighta liked otherwise."_

He wanted free as much as she did. Free from cows and chickens and chores and that Sunday-school rancher who thought he was the all-fired Almighty. Free to start on his own with money enough to never eat dirt again and maybe with someone standin' proud beside him instead of cowering at his heel.

"_If I had a woman like you, I wouldn't be such a fool as not marry her."_

A respectable woman that nobody'd look on like dirt, even him. She'd make sure he'd have no cause for that. She'd make sure after today that he couldn't no more be free of her than she could of him. They'd go into this even or not at all.

Still keeping her eyes and her gun on him, she dropped to one knee and rolled Welles over onto his back. His eyes were open, and so was his mouth. There was a little trickle of blood from his nose and that was all. Her bullet had gone through his back and into his heart and stayed there. Right where it belonged.

She rummaged in his coat pockets, found the jerky he still had left, and stuck it into her own pocket. She found a couple of rawhide thongs in there, too, and took them. Maybe she'd need those for a little insurance sometime or other. She wasn't at all certain of this Jess yet. He'd said all along he was a liar. Maybe he was. Maybe just a little time with him would be better than all this while trailing along with Hawk anyway. Maybe she'd just find out.

She took the gun from Welles' stiffening fingers and stuffed it in her belt. Then, still with her eyes on Jess, she patted down his coat one last time. There. She took the little white paper bag he had in his inside pocket and clutched it close. She'd have those. Whatever else happened now, this one time she'd have something sweet.

"So what's it gonna be?" Jess asked.

Wary of what he would do, she took a lemon drop from the bag and offered it to him. He took it from her and put it in his mouth, not crunching it, just letting it melt on his tongue. She took one for herself and then stuffed the bag into her coat pocket.

"What would you do?" she asked, still holding her gun on him.

"You mean if I had the chance to take off with enough money to keep me the rest of my life or give it up and keep eatin' dirt?" His mouth turned up a little at the corners, and there was the devil in his eyes. "One thing I know I wouldn't have to do is think on it very long. But that's just me. You're the one with the fiddle now. You call the tune."

"Hawk'd come after me."

She'd almost said us.

"Dead men don't come after nobody."

He said it coolly. He'd seen her kill Welles. Maybe he thought she'd as easily kill Hawk. She wasn't gonna be the only one with skin in this game.

"No," she said. "I don't care if he's dead, but I can't do it. Not to him. We— we been together a long time." She lifted her chin. "You do it."

"I ain't no killer."

"Right." She laughed harshly. "You just want somebody else to do it for you."

"What about Daisy?" he asked. "I ain't killin' her. She never did me no wrong."

"We can't leave either of 'em to tell what happened. You know we can't."

She'd make sure he had blood on his hands, too. He'd never be able to lord it over her about that after this. They'd be the same.

She moved closer to where he still stood with his back to the tree. "Not and get away with that money," she whispered. "Together."

She smiled to herself to see that now he was the one trembling and breathless.

He stood there, caught in her eyes, and then he licked his lips. "All right," he said low. "I'll see to Scott. You do the same for— for her."

Still with her gun in her hand, her finger on the trigger, she stepped closer and lifted her mouth to his. For an instant he was still, and she knew he wasn't hers, not quite yet. Then his arms went around her, crushing her close. She clung to him, her gun pressed to his back as his mouth found hers. Glory, he tasted like lemon drops and she didn't know what else. She felt the tug as he wrapped her braid around one hand, holding her head back, holding the kiss until she thought she'd drown, until she was sure she'd drown and knew she didn't care. Hawk nor anybody else had never kissed her like this.

"Callie Beth," he breathed, nuzzling along her cheek and to her ear. "You gotta be sure. If we do this, you gotta be a hundred percent sure. I ain't never—"

"We'll be free, Jess." She kissed his neck and the line of his jaw until she reached his mouth again. "Once they're gone, once we have the money and nobody knows, we'll never have to do anything like this anymore. We'll be free."

He kissed her again, fierce and hard, and then he stepped back from her, both of them shaken and breathless.

"All right then." He set his mouth in a hard line. "Let's get it done. No use thinkin' about it too much now."

Still holding the gun on him, she gave him the saddlebags and nodded for him to go ahead, to lead them to the road and then back to where Hawk and the old woman waited. She never once looked back at Welles as, open mouthed and unseeing, he stared at the sun.

"You said you been a tracker for the army," she said after they'd walked a little way. "Which way do you think we'd best go to get us out of here?"

"I been thinkin'. I been up the Lolo Trail almost to Canada. It ain't an easy way to go, but nobody's like to follow us, at least not close enough to catch us before we're out of the country. After that, I figure Canada's got enough big open that we can find us a quiet place to settle and not be bothered ever again." He walked on a little while longer, and then he slowed to come alongside her. "How much do you think there is?"

He patted the saddlebags hanging over his shoulder.

"I guess I never heard for sure," she said, her blood tingling at the thought of how much it might be and what they might do with it. "Welles said a lot. So did Hawk. Ought to be enough to keep us pretty well a good long while."

"Did you ever see it?" he asked. "I never saw more'n a few dollars all in once place before."

"Yeah, me neither. Hawk never let me handle much money. Tell truth, I don't know as he ever had much himself all at once. If he did, he never wasted any of it on me."

"The more shame on him," Jess said, his eyes on her face and then moving down the length of her braid, and then settling on her lips. "You'd look fine in one of them silk dresses and your hair all done up."

"And diamonds?" she asked.

"Yeah, diamonds." He touched one finger to the hollow of her throat. "One of them diamond collars like I seen." He moved his hand over her shoulder and down her arm to her wrist, sliding his fingers around it. "And a diamond bracelet two inches wide." He slipped his hand over hers until he could trace the third finger of her left hand. "And a ring."

"Liar," she whispered when she saw the burning look in his eyes.

"If we're gonna do this," he said huskily, "I want to see what we're doin' it for."

He glanced at the saddlebags, and she gestured with her gun. "Well, go on ahead and look. I'd like to see myself."

He slid the saddlebags off his shoulder and undid the buckle. There was a sudden hunger in the blue eyes when he looked inside. "I don't know how much this is, but I think it'll do us just fine. Look."

She leaned closer to see the money, and he flung the saddlebags into her face, throwing his shoulder against her as he did, slamming her to the ground. In another second, he wrenched the gun from her hand and pulled the other one from her belt. He pointed both of them at her as he got to his feet and stood looking down on her.

"All right, get up."

"Liar!" she shrieked, launching herself at him, raking at his eyes with her nails, not caring about the guns in his hands. "Liar! Liar!"

He turned his face, ducking his head to avoid her attack until he could holster one gun and use his free hand to grab her wrist and spin her around with her arm pinned behind her back.

"You _are_ a wild one," he said with a humorless laugh.

He stuffed the other gun into his belt, and she cursed him as he held her there.

He tightened his hold, making her cry out. "Don't waste your breath. I've heard it all before."

"You're a liar," she gasped, tears of rage springing to her eyes. "You've been lying all along. All of it, lies. Even over by the pond, you knew all the time I was watchin' you!"

"Every second of it," he spat. "And you dadgum took the bait."

She bucked against him, but he only shoved her arm up higher, making her bite her lip to hold back a cry. She'd let him break it before she'd whimper again.

"Now get movin'." He dropped swiftly to one knee and grabbed up the saddlebags again and then shoved her along ahead of him on the road. "And don't give me any trouble, or I'll find something to tie you up with."

"You're a big man," she said, rubbing her aching shoulder. "Takes a big man to rough up a girl, don't it. To lie to her over and over. To make her think just maybe she meant somethin' to somebody after all." She glared back at him. "You must be proud just now."

"What did you expect me to do? Run off with you and leave Daisy with Scott? She's as near a ma as I had since I was a kid, and I'd do what I done and more to keep her safe from hellcats like you. And even if it wasn't her, I'm still not standin' by and letting you and Scott go around killin' and takin' whatever you want like there's nobody in the world that matters but you."

"That's all you men know. Lyin' and usin' women, treatin' 'em like they got no feelin's at all. Yeah, you must be proud."

"No," he said. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry to have to treat any woman like that. And I'm sorry you ain't had no better shake in life. But far as I can see, you picked your own way. You robbed and killed and sold yourself for what you could get and ended up with nothin' all the same. That makes me sorry. But usin' whatever weapons I got to get myself and Daisy outta this mess, no, I can't say's I'm sorry about that the least little bit."

She spun, her hand raised to slap his smug face, and he grabbed her wrist and spun her back, shoving her forward.

"Go on."

She'd see to him for this. And before he died, he would be sorry. She'd make sure of that. Maybe he thought he had all the weapons now, but she had weapons, too.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please remember that this story will be posted chapter by chapter until it's finished. I will mark it "complete" for those of you who prefer to read a completed story all at once. You can either follow the story so you'll get an alert when new chapters are posted and can see when it's marked complete, or you can simply check the Laramie "Just In" page. When the last chapter is posted, it will pop up at the top of the list as complete, and then you can start reading. **

**For all of you reading along now, thank you! I appreciate your encouraging comments. They make me eager to keep posting. I put a lot of time and effort into my stories, and it's always nice to know people are enjoying them.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Jess kept his gun on Callie's back, knowing she was desperate now, as desperate as he'd been, as willing as he'd been to do whatever needed doing to get free. But he'd seen her kill, and she'd planned on killing again to get him and the money. He couldn't let her loose, no matter how guilty he felt for doing what he'd done, for making her think there might be something between them, for playing on whatever was still tender and womanly in her, and making her hope, if only for a morning, that she could be clean and free. The memory of kissing her, cold and shrewd, of flaunting his body like a two-bit hustler, of acting like was so smitten that he'd kill to have her, the sullied memory wouldn't wash easy, but he shoved it aside. Like he'd told her, he'd used whatever weapons he had to get himself and Daisy free, and he wasn't sorry.

"Jess," she whimpered after a few minutes' walk.

He didn't say anything, just pushed her forward.

She crossed her arms over her stomach. "Jess, please, I feel sick."

He holstered his gun and came up behind her. "What is it?"

Before she could turn on him, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it until she dropped the buck knife she'd pulled from her belt. She cursed him again as he tossed it into the brush alongside the road.

"I was wondering when you'd try somethin'. What else you got on you?"

"Nothin'."

He looked her over and then grabbed the little white bag from her pocket. "Those are mine anyway."

Her dark eyes burned with fury. "Why don't you go ahead and shoot me? Might as well that as take me to hang."

"You think I won't?"

He said it hard, but he wondered.

She stopped, smiling at him now, taunting him. "You hold yourself out to be one of them honorable gents, don't ya? Upholdin' the law and protectin' old ladies and such. You'd never shoot an unarmed man much less a helpless female."

He made his expression as fierce and cold as he could. "Try me."

With a flounce of one slender shoulder, she started walking again, sashaying her hips like she was strolling along a big-city avenue wearing a velvet gown and holding a lace parasol over her head. He clenched his jaw and followed after her.

They walked along like that for a few minutes more, and then he noticed she was speeding up. That was fine. They'd just get back to Scott and Daisy all the quicker. Still—

"Just slow down there," he said as they approached a stretch of road that curved around a stand of pines. "We'll get there soon enough."

Instead of slowing, she hared off into the trees.

"Callie!" He shot near her feet, kicking up a spray of dirt. "Hold it right there!"

He darted after her, but she didn't look back, didn't slow, and soon he didn't see her anymore. He couldn't let her go. If she got back to Scott, there's no telling what they'd do to Daisy. He still had the saddlebags over his shoulder, and maybe that was something he could bargain with, but maybe not. No telling what kind of tale Callie'd spin for Scott about him and about what had happened to Welles. Whatever she told him, Scott was like as not gonna want a piece out of his hide, money or no money.

"Callie!" he shouted again. "I'll find you! I swear I'll put a bullet in your leg and drag you back if I have to! Callie!"

He followed the small print of her boots, swift and silent now, but the trail ended at a rocky stretch that ran alongside a creek bed that wound into more trees.

"Callie! I swear I'll have you! Callie!"

His eyes darted from place to place, from rocks to trees to low brush, but he didn't see a sign of her. Likely she'd backtracked on him. He wiped the sweat off his face and turned to look back the way he'd come. He'd have to go back to where he'd last seen sign of her, and then—

He was knocked to his knees and then down to sit on his heels when something hit him from above. His gun flew from his hand, and he grabbed for the second still stuck in his waistband. Then he let that gun fall, too, and clawed at the strip of rawhide tightening around his neck, tightening and tightening as he fought for breath, for life.

"Callie," he gasped.

She pulled back harder, and the edges of his vision darkened. He struggled to throw her off, to wrench free, but she stuck like a burr, her legs on either side of him and her boots planted firmly on his thighs, her heels digging in as she pulled back on the rawhide, twisting it tighter, making it impossible for him to stand, making it impossible for him to breathe.

The darkness spread inward. The sky, the creek, the rocks and trees, were at the end of a long, narrowing tunnel. His hands fell to his sides, limp and useless as he swayed backward.

"No, Jess," she whispered sweet in his ear as the tunnel narrowed into total blackness. "I'll have you."

OOOOO

He sputtered awake when she dashed a hatful of water into his face.

She shoved him with one foot, rolling him over onto his stomach. "Now, get up."

She had to pull him by one arm to get him to his knees since his hands were bound tight behind his back.

"Get up!" she shrieked into his face.

He struggled to his feet, barely managing to keep from falling. She had both guns again, one in her holster and the other stuck in her belt. He looked up at the sun, trying to figure out how long he'd been out. Long enough for her to have gone back for her knife anyway. She had the saddlebags, too.

"What now?" he rasped.

"Now I oughta cut your heart out and feed it to you piece by piece," she hissed. "But I'm takin' you back to Hawk just like I told him I would. After I tell him about you killin' Welles, after I've told him about what you tried to do to me, he's gonna be real happy to see you again." He stumbled woozily toward the camp where Daisy and Scott waited. It wasn't far now. Likely they'd heard that shot from a while back, and Scott would be watching for them. Time was ticking away. He had to think of something, and he had to think fast.

He swallowed hard, filling his throat with burning pain. He shoulda tied Callie up when he had the upper hand. He shoulda shot her in the leg or in the shoulder or something when she first started running. Now he was stuck and stuck bad. His life and Daisy's were on the line, and he was out of ideas. He couldn't sweet talk Callie anymore. She'd only shove that knife into his heart and glory in the twisting of it if he dared try something like that again. He couldn't tempt her with the money. She had it already. She had wet down the thong that tied his wrists, and now it was tightening with his every step as it dried in the heat of the sun.

_Think. Think fast. Lord, help me. Help me think._

Ever since he could remember, he'd been in tight spots. And, by some miracle, he'd gotten out of them. How had he done it? What had he done? He shuffled through the memories, considering this, discarding that, more and more frantic as they got closer to the camp. He had to stall. He had to have more time. He slowed nearly to a stop.

"You don't want to go back to Scott," he said, his swollen throat allowing him little more than a whisper. "What do you need him for? You've got the money. All I want is to get Daisy and go home."

She shoved him forward, saying nothing.

"Just leave that knife somewheres where I can get it. By the time I get loose, you'll be long gone. I swear I won't come after you."

"Oh, no," she breathed as she slid the muzzle of her gun behind his ear. "I'm not leavin' you alive here or anywhere. Matter of fact, Hawk'll probably be so happy to see you again, he'll let you watch while he puts a bullet in your precious Daisy. He might even let you dig her grave." She shoved him again. "And your own."

He walked on, closer and closer to the end. The camp was just over the next rise, and he still didn't have a plan. He searched his memory again for ideas, for anything that might give him an advantage. There was nothing. Nothing.

_I'm sorry, Daisy. I promised Slim I'd bring you home safe. Please, God, Daisy— _

Daisy.

He tripped over a rock and nearly fell, and Callie clipped him in the side of the head with her pistol, nearly knocking him down anyway.

"Keep movin'."

He was wobbling when they made it into camp. Scott looked ashen faced and slick with sweat, but he was strong enough to be sitting on the end of the wagon bed with a plate of beans in his lap. Daisy was bringing him a cup of coffee.

"Jess!"

She set down the cup and ran to him, but Scott pushed himself unsteadily to his feet and waved his gun at her.

"Get away from him. Get over here."

Daisy didn't even look at him until he cocked his pistol and pointed it at Jess.

"Do it now, ma'am, if you want your boy to keep on livin'."

"Jess," she breathed, not taking her worry-filled eyes from him when Callie pushed him toward Scott.

"You get it?" Scott asked as Daisy came over beside him.

Callie handed him the saddlebags. "Right here. Just like you wanted."

The outlaw laughed low in his throat. "That's my girl. Where's Welles?"

"Dead," she said, jerking her head toward Jess. "He killed him."

Jess tightened his jaw. There was no use denying it. Not now.

Scott looked at him and then laughed again. "Well, that's fine. We won't have to give him a share now. I was getting tired of his whining anyway."

"Welles was trying to help me," Callie said, going to him as if she were frightened to be too close to Jess. "He went to see if anybody was trackin' us from Cheyenne, and when he was gone Jess got loose. He tried to convince me to run off with him and take the money. I told him I was your girl, and he said he show me. He grabbed me and kissed me. Welles came back and told him to stop. Jess got his gun and shot him dead, just like that. Right in the back."

Daisy was looking at Jess with one hand over her mouth, and he couldn't help but smile wearily at the ridiculousness of it all. But his eyes met hers, and he shook his head. Just slightly. Just enough to let her know it wasn't true. She gave him a little nod, and he knew she understood. He didn't bother to deny it to Scott.

The big man came over to him. "What did I say already, boy? Right from the start, I told you she was mine, didn't I?"

Jess kept his mouth clamped shut.

Scott seized his already-bruised throat. "Didn't I?"

"Yeah," Jess growled.

"And didn't I say I didn't want to have to tell you twice?"

"Yeah."

"You move out of the way, Callie Beth," Scott said. "I don't want young Jess here to think I don't make good on what I say."

"Please," Daisy said, her small hands clasped over her heart. "He found the money for you. Isn't that enough? You can take the wagon and the horses and go. It'll take us a long time to get any help out here with no horses. You'll be well away by then. If you kill us, the law will never stop hunting you, no matter where you go."

"Now, I'm sorry, ma'am, but that's long past frettin' over. Me and Callie both got nothin' but a rope waitin' for us whether we never so much as spit on a sidewalk again. Killin' you two ain't gonna make anybody much difference." He nodded at Jess. "I do thank you for finding my money for me."

Daisy started to cry as he pointed his pistol at Jess. "No, please!"

Jess put back his shoulders and lifted his chin. "Go on."

Scott took aim, and Jess flung himself toward him knocking his arm to the side as he fired.

And Callie fell to the ground.

**Author's Note: Oh boy. Jess is in real trouble now. I'd love to know what you think.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"I'm afraid she's dead," Daisy said as she knelt at the girl's side, a tear of pity in her kind eyes even for the likes of Callie Beth Parker.

Jess was huddled at Scott's feet, his wrists still bound in tightening strips of rawhide. He hadn't meant for this to happen. He hadn't meant for Callie to die, not because of him. He'd only wanted to keep Scott from killing him. He wasn't sure why Scott didn't go ahead and do it now.

The outlaw just stood with his gun at his side, his free hand clutching his bandaged middle as he watched Daisy close Callie's eyes and fold her slender hands over her heart.

Daisy went to him, still with that pity in every line of her face. "I'm sorry."

What else could she say? It was a sorry situation all the way around.

"You're very kind, ma'am," Scott said. "It's a shame I can't do as right by you as you done by me."

"But you can." She put her hand on his upper arm, sweet and pleading. "You can still get away with the money if you go now. We'll see to burying Callie Beth."

"Yes, ma'am, I expect you would. You're a quality lady, and I'm sorry for what's got to happen to you."

"It doesn't have to be that way. There's no reason for it."

Scott's expression hardened as he turned his eyes to Jess. "He's the reason for it. Callie Beth's dead on account of him, and that's got to be paid for."

"All right then," Jess said, twisting his body so he could look up at the outlaw. "But let Daisy go. She ain't done any harm to you or Callie or nobody."

Even wounded as he was, Scott was a big man, a strong man, and he grabbed Jess by one arm and slung him like a rag doll against a tree. Jess groaned as he slid to the ground, the bark tearing into his back all the way down. Daisy tried to get to him, but Scott shoved her back and yanked Jess to his feet again, turning him so he could cut the rawhide that bound his wrists.

Jess grit his teeth as the blood rushed back into his hands like ten-thousand tiny needles. "She can't hurt you. Let her go."

"This ain't about her," Scott said, grabbing Jess by the collar and pushing him toward the trees. "Callie Beth's dead because of you, and I'll have to pay you out by taking one of yours before I kill you." He gave Daisy an apologetic nod. "I'm sorry for it, ma'am, but it's gotta be."

"No," she said, and somehow she managed to look sorry for him. "It doesn't have to be. It doesn't."

Scott was still clutching his middle, and now there was a blot of red on the bandage there.

"You've opened that wound," Daisy said. "You'd better let me see to it."

"It's fine," Scott snapped, and he shoved Jess again. "Go on now. You're gonna dig Callie a fine grave out there in the trees."

Jess glared at him. "With what?"

Scott kicked a tin plate toward him. "Use that. And when you're done, you can dig two more." He gestured with his gun. "I'd shoot you dead right here, boy, but I don't want to have the trouble of draggin' your rotten hide. Now git. Both of you."

Jess picked up the plate and then stumbled as he straightened. Daisy immediately took his arm, steadying him.

"Jess, dear."

There was a tenderness in the words that made his throat tighten. He covered her hand with his free one, hoping she'd see, hoping she'd somehow know what she meant to him. If this was the last—

His eyes met hers, and he prayed she'd be able to read what was in them. It meant everything now. She had to.

He stumbled to one knee, and she helped him up.

"Quit stallin'," Scott growled.

Jess patted Daisy's hand. "I'm all right. Just a little lightheaded. You know, how you were when we were on that stage going to Jubilee."

Her eyes widened.

"It was an interesting trip, wasn't it," he said. "I'll never forget what you told me that time."

"Shut up," Scott said. "Keep movin'."

"All right. All right." Jess looked back, squinting and shaking his head as he tried to focus on Scott's face. "How far do you want us to go?"

"I'll tell you where. Just keep on."

Jess took a few more wobbly steps and then sank to his knees.

Daisy dropped down beside him. "Jess. Jess!"

"Get him up!" Scott barked, thrusting his gun at them.

Daisy patted Jess's wrist and then his face, and their eyes met.

"Jus' a li'l lightheaded," he murmured. "Jus' like Jub'lee."

She pressed her fingers to the side of his head, under his hair, and then brought them back bright with blood.

"He's hurt. He's been bleeding all this while."

"Get him up!" Scott demanded, "or so help me God I'll shoot you both right here."

"Jess, dear." Daisy patted his face again, making him moan. "You have to get up now. Please, dear, now." She squeezed his arm. "Now."

Jess launched himself at Scott's wounded side, throwing him, crumpled, to the ground and sending his gun flying. He scrambled to hold the big man down, but Scott roared and flailed like a wounded bear.

"Daisy, the gun!"

But Daisy already had the barrel pointed at Scott. The outlaw tried his best to stand again, tried to shove Jess away, tried to lunge at the weapon in Daisy's trembling hands, but then he sank down once more, bleeding hard and fast now, his face dead white and his bandage soaked in red.

Daisy handed Jess the gun and knelt at Scott's side, trying her best to stop the bleeding.

"You're a quality lady, ma'am," the outlaw breathed. "Ol' Jess there was right to do all he could to keep you safe. A man's blessed to have a ma like you, by blood or not. Maybe if I'd had one, I wouldn't a ended up—"

Daisy waited a taut second or two. Then she sadly patted his hand, laid it gently over his heart, and closed his eyes.

Jess helped her to her feet. "Are you all right, Daisy?"

"Are _you_ all right? You're still bleeding. I didn't know whether you were pretending or not. I didn't know if you were telling me what I thought you were." She stroked his hair back and caressed his cheek. "Oh, Jess, I was so afraid, but I decided that if we were going to have a chance, it had better be right then."

She clung to him, and he wrapped her in his arms, holding her as close as he was able. "You're the bravest lady I know. Why, we'd never have gotten outta this mess if it weren't for you."

She laughed faintly. "Me? I didn't do anything but stay out of your way."

He gave her a shaky grin. "You came up with the plan way back when we were headed to Jubilee that time. 'When in doubt, faint.'"

She clung to him again, laughing and then crying, and then everything around him went black.

OOOOO

"Jess? Jess."

He heard his name from what seemed very far away and then felt something cool against his face and against his lips. He winced when something touched the side of his head and pierced him through with pain.

"You're all right, dear. You're all right."

"Daisy," he breathed, managing to open his eyes about halfway.

He was relieved to see her sweet face looking down on him, to find his head cradled in her lap and her gentle hands stroking his hair.

"Shoulda known I'd find you goldbricking, Harper."

Jess squinted for a moment at the man who knelt beside him and then propped himself up on one elbow.

"Well, dadgum, Evers, now you show up." He shook the lanky Cheyenne sheriff's hand. "We coulda used you here last night."

He and Daisy told Evers everything that had happened since the deputy had ridden into their camp the night before.

"I wish I'd been here," Evers said, his expression darkening. "Might not a lost a good deputy and a good friend."

"I'm sorry about Hudson." With Daisy's help, Jess sat all the way up. "He seemed like a good man. I didn't get a chance to bury him, but I can show you where—"

"I saw," Evers said gravely. "His horse came back without him, and me and some of my men tracked him to a ditch about eight or nine miles back. We'll get him home and give him a decent buryin'. We found Welles, too, and then tracked you over here. Found Scott and the girl and the money. All three of them are wanted just about anyplace you could name. I guess you wrapped this all up for us neat as you please. The owners of the Fadiman and Clifton Mining Company are gonna be awful grateful to you. In fact, I'm sure they'd like you to come on back to Cheyenne and enjoy a few days of their hospitality."

"Oh, no." Jess struggled up to a sitting position. "We gotta get back home. There's a wedding come this Saturday, and Miss Daisy here's set on going."

Evers grinned a little. "Miss Daisy and I had a little while to get acquainted while you were napping. I have a feeling if she means to get to a wedding on Saturday, that's just what she'll do."

"Now, I will not," Daisy said. "Jess needs to see a doctor, and then he needs to rest for a few days. I'm sure there's someplace nearby where they'll take us in until he's fit to travel."

"Not on your life, Daisy." Jess got to his knees and then to his feet. "I'm all right now. I made it look worse than it really is. If we leave pretty soon, we can still make home before sundown."

"Jess Harper," she said with an exasperated huff. "You can't possibly—"

"I told you what Slim'll do to me if I don't bring you back in one piece and on time. I'd rather face a whole pack of outlaws than ol' Hardrock when he's righteously indignant."

Daisy stood, too. "Sheriff, please, can't you—"

"Oh, no, ma'am," Evers said, holding up both hands. "I'm not getting anywhere near the middle of this. I'll leave you two to work it out. Just know that you're welcome to come back to Cheyenne with me and my boys. We'll see you're treated right."

"Thanks all the same, Evers." Jess shook the man's hand. "We're gonna head on home."

The sheriff's men caught up to them then. While Jess and Daisy cleaned up at the stream, the men helped load up the buckboard and hitched up the horses. They'd wrapped Callie's body and Scott's in blankets and tied them, like the bodies of Welles and Hudson, across the backs of their pack animals. The clearing no longer showed any sign of what had happened there just a little while before.

"Thank you again, ma'am, for what you did for Hudson," Evers said as he handed Daisy up to the buckboard seat. "It'll mean a lot to his ma and pa."

Jess tried to get up next to Daisy, and found himself struggling. Evers had to give him a boost.

"You get a doc to look you over when you're home, all right, Harper?"

Jess gave him a sheepish grin. "I'm just a little tired. Besides, I already got the best doctor in the territory right here."

He patted Daisy's hand, making her turn a little pink. Then, with farewells to Evers and his men, they drove west toward home.

OOOOO

Daisy was quiet until the sun started sinking low, leaving long shadows stretched across the range.

"What are we going to say to Slim?"

"I been thinkin' the same thing," Jess admitted.

He studied her while she thought. They had both taken a moment to get cleaned up before they left their camp, and now she looked her usual perfectly put together self. But he could tell by the look in her eye that she couldn't quite say the same for him.

He'd already thrown away the shirt he'd been wearing and put on a fresh one. It was mercifully free from tears and dirt and assorted bloodstains. He wore the sleeves down and buttoned at the wrists. That would cover the bandage on his forearm and any number of scrapes and bruises, and he'd tied his bandana a little higher than usual around his neck, covering the bruises there and the unmistakable rawhide burn.

Still, she looked at him with equal parts concern and appraisal. "I suppose it's a good thing that cut and those bruises are under your hair and not on your face. We'd have trouble hiding those."

He couldn't help a little bit of a laugh at that. "You're downright devious, Miss Daisy. I don't know if Slim'd a hired you on if he'd known just how sneaky you are."

"Well, you know how he'll be if he ever finds out the kind of trouble we had getting home. I'm not saying we ought to lie to him." She patted Jess's arm. "Not directly anyway. We just don't need to bring up anything that might trouble him, don't you agree?"

Remembering their earlier arrangement, he rummaged in his pocket for the almost-forgotten little white bag. "Yeah. I mean, for Slim's sake. He's got plenty on his mind as it is."

"For Slim's sake," Daisy echoed.

The were only two lemon drops left, and they each took one. With knowing smiles, they popped them into their mouths, sealing the bargain.

OOOOO

It was about an hour after dark when they pulled up in front of the house. Somehow the longest part of the journey had been from the moment they saw the house from the top of the rise until they finally reached it. Before the buckboard had even come to a stop, the front door flew open, and Mike ran into the yard with Buttons barking at his heels.

"Jess! Aunt Daisy! You're home!"

Jess hopped down from the seat and gave him the brightest smile he could manage. "Hey there, Tiger. Glad to see us?"

He had to grit his teeth when Mike flung his arms around him and hugged tight. "I sure am. We thought you'd never get back."

"Hang on now. Let me help Daisy down. We've had a long drive."

"Aren't you happy to see me?" Daisy asked when she was standing on the ground.

Mike ran to her only to be swallowed in a hug.

"Sure I am, Aunt Daisy. Slim won't even try to make cookies anymore."

"Not after last time," Slim said, his tall frame almost blotting out the warm light from the doorway.

He came out to the buckboard and gave Daisy a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "We sure missed you."

"And your cookies," Mike added.

"Well, I'm glad to know I'm needed for something," Daisy said. "Have you eaten supper yet?"

"We were about to," Mike said, "but we were hoping you might get back before Slim had to cook something."

Slim scowled at him.

Mike bit his lip. "At least I was."

Daisy smiled fondly at them both. "Well, Jess and I are hungry, too, so why don't I fix us all something while you boys unload the buckboard. Don't take too long, Jess, dear."

"I won't, Daisy," Jess said, putting his saddlebags over his shoulder and taking Daisy's carpet bag.

"About time you got back," Slim said once Daisy had gone into the house.

"I wired you we were gonna be a little late on account of that bridge bein' out. You shouldn't have been surprised."

"Yeah, I suppose." Slim scowled again. "I still don't know if she shoulda made the trip. Too much coulda happened."

Jess shrugged, shaking his head. "We're back, ain't we? What, a couple a hours late? I don't see as that's anything to fret over."

"Maybe not." Slim looked him up and down suspiciously. "Knowin' you though, I find it hard to believe you didn't get into some kind of trouble."

Jess gave him his most innocent smile. "Me? Trouble?"

Slim chuckled and swatted him on the back. Jess managed to not black out.

"I know, pard," Slim said. "I shouldn't have worried. How 'bout some coffee to tide us over till supper."

"That sounds great. Seems like forever since I had some."

"Did Aunt Daisy bring me something?" Mike asked, coming up beside him, and then he grabbed Jess's left arm. "Did she?"

Jess sucked in a sharp breath as the pain shot through him.

Slim was immediately on him. "I knew it. I knew something happened. Let me see."

Jess waved him off. "It's nothin'. Really. Let's get some coffee."

"Don't lie, Jess. Let me see."

Slim grabbed Jess's wrist and peeled back his sleeve, exposing the bandage.

"That doesn't look like nothin' to me."

Jess reddened a little. "I didn't want to have to tell you."

"What happened?" Slim demanded.

"It's embarrassin'."

"Tell me!"

"I cut myself skinnin' some rabbits last night."

"Rabbits?" Slim snapped, and then he burst out laughing. "What? Did one of 'em fight back?"

Jess ducked his head. "Now, lay off, Slim. Come on. It really hurt."

"Aww, did you hear that, Mike?" Slim put one arm around Jess's shoulders. "It really hurt."

Mike snickered.

"Come get some coffee," Slim said. "It'll make you feel better."

They had just stepped up on the porch, when the sound of hoofbeats made them turn.

"It's Mort," Slim said as the rider approached. "Hey, Mort, you're just in time for supper."

Mort swung down from his horse. "Evenin' Slim. Mike." He put his hands on his hips and looked Jess over for a long moment. "I was wondering what I'd find when I got out here, young man."

"What?" Jess said, his eyebrows curved up. "I ain't been home five minutes yet."

Mort took a piece of paper from his shirt pocket and shook it in Jess's face. "I got this telegram from Sheriff Evers in Cheyenne."

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it."

"Not alone anyway," Mort said, and he looked over at Slim. "Seems Mrs. Cooper was involved, too."

Slim's eyes widened. "Daisy? Involved in what?"

"There's not much in the wire. Evers just says that I'm supposed to inform Jess Harper and Daisy Cooper that the Fadiman and Clifton Mining Company is sending each of them fifteen-hundred dollars reward. Now, Mr. Harper, I'd like to know exactly what you two have been up to since you left home."

"Well, uh, Mort . . ." Jess looked over at Slim who had his eyes narrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. "You see, pard, it was like this, me and Daisy were driving back from Cheyenne like we told you we were and, uh, um, yeah, well, maybe you ought to come in and sit down with us, Mort. I think this is gonna take awhile." He opened the front door. "Uh, Daisy?"

THE END

**Author's Note: That's it for this one. I hope you enjoyed it. I'd love to know your opinion. **

**Daisy's advice, "When in doubt, faint," comes from the Laramie episode "The Seige at Jubilee."  
**

**While writing this story, I tended to think of these actors in the guest-starring roles:**

**Rod Cameron as Hawker Scott **

**Fay Spain as Callie Beth Parker**

**James Griffith as Stanley Welles**

**What do you think of my cast? Or did you picture someone else? Thanks so much for reading.**


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